


Twisted Aurora

by rinskiroo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Death, F/M, Family, Prompt Fic, legacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 17:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10836114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinskiroo/pseuds/rinskiroo
Summary: Bail and Breha at the death of Alderaan.  Prompt for spacelatinx week on tumblr.





	Twisted Aurora

The news out of Scarif was that there was no news from Scarif.  At best, and most likely, communications were being blocked.  At worst, and still quite possible, there was no one left to send word.  Their fragile alliance had crumbled under the weight of an Imperial armada.  Just as their Senate had folded, those last vestiges of a free society.

His fingers drummed against his desk as he stared at the console in front of him.  He could chance sending a message to Yavin.  He could encrypt it well enough, bounce it across a few dozen HoloNet relays so it couldn’t be traced.  It would take a few hours, but he would know the fate of his compatriots, his friends, his daughter.

The desk in his large, open office was sparse.  Just the console and an abandoned datapad he had been staring blankly at.  The only other item was a small holo-disc.  It had claimed that place of honor so many years ago.  There had been other little keepsakes, art projects, awards, images that had sat in his workspace, but this was the one he treasured.  She had painted it blue and purple, and he had to track down a cleaner strong and gentle enough to scrape away the pigment without damaging the projector’s lens.  She had also taken little beads and adhered them in a ring around the disc.  It had taken him several minutes (and a bit of help) to realize she had spelled out ‘daddy.’

He held the little treasure in his hands and ran his fingers across the bumpy surface of the beads.  When the device clicked on, he was greeted with the familiar image.  Smiling in the sun, wearing a white dress streaked with stains from the grass, with purple flowers smashed in her fingers, was his little girl.  All of three and already a terror on two legs, his Leia.  Breha appeared in the frame and bent slightly to wipe a smudge of dirt off her cheek before picking her up.  Bail had been holding the recorder that day; he had called out to his wife to turn and look at him, to smile.  She did, and stars, she was beautiful.  Both of them continued to take his breath away every day.

“Bail?”  she called his name.  There was an urgency in her voice and he rose quickly to his feet.  He slid the disc into his pocket, unsure why, but knowing that he needed to keep it close.

Breha was standing in the doorway, behind her people were rushing past, almost in a panic.  He didn’t really see them, though something told him he should be worried, he only saw her.  The wide, billowy sleeves of her gown hung off her wrists as she reached for him, beckoning him over.

“What’s wrong?”  He gripped her hands in his, feeling the slight tremor in her fingers.  “Have you heard something?”

Her dark eyes looked into his, filled with fear and worry.  “Have you not looked outside?”

His brows pinched together in confusion as he shook his head.  Her grip tightened on his hand and she pulled him back into his office.  He followed her as she pressed open the door that led out onto the balcony, never letting go of her grasp.  The balcony overlooked some of the most splendid gardens on the palace grounds: well-manicured trees and shrubs, blooming flowers, and ornately carved fountains.  It had always been his peaceful retreat.  Today, an unfamiliar shadow was cast over it.

Breha pressed her fingers up under his chin and urged his gaze upward.

Dimpled, grey, and large, the foreign satellite sat low on Alderaan’s horizon.  Instantly, Bail knew what it was and the air left his lungs in a heavy breath.  The hand still clutched in Breha’s clung on even tighter; the other slipped into his pocket and around their daughter’s momento.

“Do you think she’s--”

Bail pulled his wife in front of him, turning her to make her face him and not the thing in the sky.  “Yes, yes she is.  Our precious girl is safe and on her way to find Obi-Wan right now. I believe it.  I  _ know _ it.”

Her eyes blinked, staving off the tears born of fear and worry.  She nodded and swallowed, and he could tell her mind had started to move past the panic and try to work through the problem.  “Do they think they can cow us into submission by parking their monstrosity in our orbit?  I will contact the Moff and demand they remove that-- _ thing _ .”

But Bail knew there would be no negotiations this time.  The Alliance had made its move, shown that it was willing to fight, willing to challenge the Empire loudly and with force.  This was their retaliation, their reminder of who was in control.  If Jedha had been a test, then Alderaan would be the example.

All of the second-guessing, the doubts, the regrets stretching back decades, were pushed to the side.  The fight, the duty, they were no longer his to bear.  If these were his final moments, he would not have hate settle over his heart.  Bail reached a hand out and cupped her cheek, not letting her turn as a green glow began to overtake the sky like some twisted aurora.  He smiled at her, and her at him.  No anger in this final moment, just thankfulness that she had chosen him.  Thankful for her love.  And thankful for the hope, somewhere out there in the galaxy, all wrapped up in their little girl.


End file.
